Stolen
by areuacat
Summary: After the horrendous events in Justice, Blake wants to move on with his life and forget his awful past. But, when a girl is killed in the nearby city of Chance, he knows that the fight's not over yet and he must save Michael, Marley, Finn, Shanna and Kurt before it's too late. Sequel to Taken. Rated T for violence, discrimination and bad language.
1. Prolouge

**Hey guys, this is the long overdue sequel to Taken, which I intended to eventually write but couldn't think of a strong enough plot. This one deals with what I left from the last one, all to do with Jake and the organisation he's a part of, and there new scheme that has been set in motion. Blake will still be featured, as he knows all to well what Jake is capable of. If you haven't read Taken, I suggest you do so you are comfortable with the plot, okay? Enjoy **

_Taken: s/8817060/1/Taken _

* * *

_Jake's POV_

I throw my hands up in the air in frustration, looking at the chaotic array of things that now lay strewn across my floor due to my rage. After all my effort, nothing is left, just the crimson stain of blood on my fingertips and the scent of lifeless carcasses poisoning my nose. With a swift movement, I knock the last thing off my table and lock the door, too tired to face the consequences of my destruction.

_I'm so tired, so, so very tired._ The feeble part of my humanity weeps. I shake my head.

_I have no choice._

I feel my shoulders slump as I lean against the cold metal panel on the wall behind me.

_Everyone has a choice._

Another part of me states matter-of-factly.

_Not this time. You're wrong._

I continue negatively battling with my conscience, my inner demon.

_I'm not wrong, you know I'm not. _

I feel like screaming at the top of my voice: 'I never wanted this to happen!' before crumbling in defeat into a pile on the floor and melting away into nothing. But nothing's ever that easy. I don't have a choice. He said I didn't. So now, I must regain the dignity I lost in a little town called Justice, where my brother died. I must move on, move on to a new place and it's name: Chance

* * *

_Blake's POV_

I wake up, groggy and shattered, and grab lazily for my alarm clock. I rub my eyes so the little digital time becomes clearer before coming to the conclusion that, once again, I've slept through my alarm. I hoist myself out of bed and plod into the kitchen, dismissively turning on my TV while I search through the draws and cupboards for something to eat. Eventually, I find some cereal and begin pouring it into my bowl, I prepare to go and settle down on my sofa when a gripping news headline stops me, flashing up on the screen in bold italics.

**_Teenager left for dead in Chance_**

Intrigued, I mindlessly approach the screen, constant images flashing up of the dead body left drowning head to toe in mud. The body is analysed as Dani Shay, lesbian daughter to the new obnoxious mayor of Justice. She ran away after she came out, but it seems like you can't run forever. And I know who did this. And I'm going to stop him, avenge Puck, Blaine, Nellie and Aylin, the ones heaven was too eager to snatch. This time, I will be victorious.


	2. Chapter 1

_Kurt's POV_

You could say chance is a nice place, but that would be a lie. Everywhere you go, streets are lined with the homeless, the stench of urine and uncleanliness wafting off their worn clothes. Their eyes sunken, their skin wrinkled, many of them look too old for their years. Every time I pass, I feel a stab of guilt in my stomach, like a knife twisting my insides, stirring them like a stew. I just keep my head bowed or pretend I'm occupied. But the truth is, I haven't felt a sense of purpose ever since I left Justice a few years prior to this day. But more importantly, I feel a gaping hole where my heart is, because of leaving Blaine. Sometimes, I spend sleepless nights pondering over what he's doing, what he's achieved. I make up his whole new life in my head: He's probably in a relationship, earning enough to live off the basics but doing okay. He probably got out of Justice and left, went far far away from any recognition of me, or what's left at least. All I know is, going back hurts too much and my scars are too deep to heal.

I turn a corner and begin traipsing down an alleyway, not illuminated by the usual streetlamps. Cautiously, I place a shaking hand against the wall to my left, trying to stand upright. As I take a few steps, I feel my breathing become quick and light, like I'm hyperventilating. I see the exit, the light ahead. I begin to walk faster, wanting to escape this dark and dreary place. Suddenly, hands grab me from behind, slamming me against the cold brick wall. I feel a sharp pain in my arm, then everything fades to a shade of black.

* * *

_Finn's POV_

I move away from the window and stare at the clock. Time begins to pass, and with every minute I begin to worry. I planned everything out: I get mom to make dinner, set the table, light some fancy candles, put up some banners and live up to my name Frankenteen, run a bubble bath, put on his favourite musicals mixtape and Kurt'll come home at six thrity on the dot. Now it's eleven forty five. I start pacing, my mind overflowing with horrific possibilities of where he'll be. Then, I stop pacing and race over to the phone, hastily dialling for the police. A woman answers on the third ring in the usual fashion and, just as I'm about to explain, I hear the front door shut. I let a sigh of relief escape from my lips.

"No worries, he's come home now. Everything'll be okay. Thanks... uh, bye." With that, I put down the phone and turn around, a grin on my face. But, as quick as a flash, it is replaced with a look of dread. In front of me stands a man with brown eyes on fire, in head to toe black robbery gear. He pins me down to the ground and I try to shake him off, but his grip is too strong. In a bid for freedom, I kick him square in the balls and, in his moment of weakness, stand myself up. I should really run, but no one messes the Hudson- Hummels around. I launch at the man and punch him hard before skidding him across the table, ruining all my time and effort. The man falls feebly on the other side of the table. I beam with pride before, to my suprise, two hands grab my ankles and force me downwards, making me hit my head hard on the floor. I feel blood trickle from the back of my head and begin feeling woozy. The man grabs me by the collar and throws me downstairs before I faintly feel him straddling me and drugging me. I try to fight it, but I can't. I'm not a superhero.

* * *

_Michael's POV_

I hear a tapping at my window and look up from my book, watching as pebbles hit my window. I sigh, hoisting myself up from the wooden floor, knowing who it is. I then open the window, only to be met by a pebble hitting me right in the eye.

_"SHIT MARLEY!" _I shout at my next door neighbour, my eye stinging. My hand flies to where I was hit, feeling the area heat up like a light."What is this, Romeo and fucking Julliet?" Marley begins dribbing on about how sorry she is, but I block out her apology by considering what the hell I'm going to use as an eye patch. One of the many disadvantages of being poor, especially in Chance. You improvise, because no one gives a damn. To Marley's suprise, I strip of my shirt and rip of some of the fabric, tying it around my eye securely. Then, I check that no one's watching behind me and slide down the cracked drainpipe, eventually hitting the ground... with my face. Once again, Marley runs up to me, trying to see if I'm alright, examining the wound and whatnot. I shrug her off, putting my hands out to stop her advancing on me.

"I'm fine." I say, making me shuffle awkwardly, embarrassed for trying. "Look, what did you want? If you say you want to use me for target practise, you know the answer. You wouldn't need to though, you've got pretty damn good aim anyway."

"Sorry," She says, looking at the floor. I give her a questioning look, eyebrow raised. She sighs, obviously losing track of this conversation. "Calculus." I break into a smile.

"Vlucky vor you, Iz know a fing abvout vat calcuvus" I say in my best German accent.

"You are hopeless." She sighs, stalking off back in the direction of her house, hands on hips. I jog to keep up with her before getting level.

"What did I say?" She gives me her best 'WTH' look and faces me, arms crossed.

"Calculus, really? You love Calculus." She replies flatly.

"What did you expect? Come on, I'm here to help." She mutters 'Fine' and begins walking again until she reaches her mouldy picket fence gate, which opens stiffly. The once perfect white paint is peeling, replaced with rotting wood which lies underneath. I follow her as she unbolts the black rusted gate and wanders down the wall between our houses, which is covered in bird shit and whatnot. We then enter into her tiny garden. Moss carpets the door and grime scales up the walls as if it's trying to escape the mosse's clutches. Ever since Marley's mom fell ill, she's had to grow up rapidly and fend for herself on five pounds a week. Whenever I say anything about it, she shrugs it off, saying that she's lucky to have that much and she just cares that her mom gets better. I wish I could help, but my family of seven only have eleven pounds a week ever since my dad left and we got thrown out of our house. I hate this injustice, but I hate seeing Marley suffer more, on her own, with no one to help her. And that's why I'm here.

Marley unlocks the door and shows me inside. Immediately, a foul smell hits me. I scrunch my nose up but follow her through into the kitchen. The walls are plastered with damp patches, the sink stacked high with pots and pans. Oblivious, she just slumps down in her chair and points to the worksheets.

"Please, help me." She says. I come over and look at her directly in her eyes.

"Always."

* * *

_Marley's POV_

In the end, Michael does my calculus homework for me while I clean the house. When he finishes, he gives me a thumbs up and sighs, leaning back on the chair.

"Done."

"Thank you so much Michael, what would I do without you?" I say, scanning through the worksheets.

"Live a longer, happier life?" He suggests, making me playfully hit him. He chuckles, leaning back again on his chair.

"Shut up! Look, I'm gonna go clean my mom's room, then I'll be back." I sprint up the creaking stairs to my mom's room and open the door quietly, hoping not to disturb her. But I am met with a horrific sight. My mom hands lifeless from the ceiling by a rope, swirling around on the fan above my head. Her eyes have been gouged out and her neck is slit, a ring of scarlet glinting in the bleak sunlight. I scream uncontrollably, unsure of what else to do as tears fall down my face. I feel someone grab me around the waist and I feel momentarily relieved.

"Michael..." I choke, turning around to face him. But it's not Michael I see. I am met with the brown eyes of a man, who laughs at me. He reaches into his pocket for something- a sharp, menacing needle- and holds it up to my face, feeding off the fear in my eyes. Before I know it, the man is wrestling with Michael on the floor, who punches him fiercly, a fire in his eyes. I try to run, but I am paralysed, unable to move from my position. The man in black picks up a weak Michael and throws him against a wall, making him pass out instantly. He injects him and then comes for me. But that's all I remember.

* * *

_Shanna's POV_

I lie on my inflatable bed, the summer sun beating down on me. Distantly, I hear my two brother's splashing around in another part of the pool. I feel myself relax, on the verge of sleeping. But, all of a sudden, there is an eerie silence. The sun is replaced by clouds and I sit up, taking off my sunglasses. No one's there anymore. The water is calm and the poolside is completely clean. However, I see something on the edge of the pool and squint at it, my eyesight failing me. Then I realise: Blood. I start panicking, frantically looking around for someone, anyone, who might help. Just as I see the towel boy approaching, I am abruptly pulled under the water, and I open my eyes to see a man dressed in black. He puts his bare hands to my neck and I kick violently, screaming, but nothing comes out. I push up to the surface and scream before feeling my body become weak as I sink down into the watery depths.

* * *

_Blake's POV_

The first thing I hear is a scream. Knowingly, I begin driving faster, slaloming through the traffic and parked cars. I follow the sound until I reach the richest part of Chance and see a van quickly turning a corner. So I follow as quickly as I can, knowing that if I stop, even for a second, that it'll be to late.


	3. Chapter 2

_Michael's POV_

I wake up with a start. I suddenly begin shaking, not sure where I am or what's going on, only feeling my head pounding and my limbs throbbing. I feel a calm hand on my shoulder and look around. Marley kneels beside me, eyes bloodshot as if she's been crying. Automatically, I pull her into my embrace and she lets out a sob. I quietly reassure her that it'll all be okay, and I'll get us out of this, but that's mostly for my own benefit, to decieve myself from the truth. I know what's going on, no one needs to explain. We've been Taken, Stolen, and now we're going to have to wait it out as we rot into nothing but dust. I still remember that mild autumn day, when Marley came around to my house to watch the news report. Five were taken, one survived. The kidnappers methods were unknown, but it seemed like a game, or a sign. But this time's different, this has an air of revenge and rebellion about it. But I refuse to back down, I will not be undermined by these cowardly, emotionless shells. I just need to believe that.

* * *

_Finn's POV_

I watch Marley and her friend hug it out and long for Kurt to wake up. He lies, twitching, agaisnt the van wall, breathing heavily as he fights off the drug. I'm the oldest one here, the leader, and yet I can't think of a single damn thing to get us out of here. Kurt would've known. That's the difficult thing. He was the strength of us as a pairing, he had the brains. But after we moved, everything seemed to... change, like he left a part of himself at the old house in Justice. I know now, that what he left was his heart, which went to Blaine's grave with him. When Kurt heard the news, he didn't cry, or scream. He just sat silently there for what seemed like forever, then excused himself upstairs and locked himself in his room for a few days. Blaine was Kurt's world, even though they were no longer together. But, saying that, he could never admit it to himself. They were one, connected by an invisible line of thread which these bastards broke, letting Blaine fall into the clutches of heaven... or hell.

* * *

_Shanna's POV_

When I wake up, it's dark outside. I only know because when I kept floating in and out of conciousness, you could see the sunlight through the tiny gap in the doors which let a sliver of gold in. But now, it's replaced by shadows. My eyes adjust to the darkness, and I examine my surroundings. Marley and her cute friend sleep close together, hands barely touching in the centre of the van, whereas the tall guy who I don't know sleeps propped up against a crate of something, head tilted so it overlooks the smaller boy's sleeping body. _I swear he hasn't woken up since this journey began, _I think, trying to avoid the thoughts that I might die here and I never got to say goodbye. I miss the sun, the sand, the relaxasion the higher part of Chance has to offer. These people I'm surrounded by don't understand, never will. I don't envy them, but I do wish that, in a way, I didn't have so much to lose. Because my complaciency, my closed mind, is now paying the price.


	4. Chapter 3

**RIP Cory Monteith, you were the night in shining armour to me and to all of us. Don't stop believing x**

* * *

The van rattled on as days turned to nights, minutes dragging by like they were hours, hours feeling like years. No one knew how long it had been since they had seen sunlight, smelt freshly cut grass, listened to birds chirping as they fluttered from one tree to the next without a care in the world. Their lives weren't that simple, that trivial. Not anymore. Now, all that they felt was death approaching, as they slipped into it's shadowed embrace...

* * *

Michael's POV

The van came to a sudden halt, jolting us all, throwing us forward into the prison walls surrounding us. I squint, squeezing my eyes shut, listening intently to try and make out the whispered conversation between the drivers. I only heard one sentence, but that was all I needed:

_'We're being followed'_

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

* * *

_Blake's POV_

In front of me, the white van stops suddenly, tyres screeching. My mind goes into a panic as I swerve off the road to hide. My motorbike throws me off head first and I crash into a nearby tree with a crack. I groan, pulling myself cautiously to my feet. I brush down my trousers, running a hand through my hair, slick with sweat. I glance down at the gash on my arm and sigh, stripping off my T-Shirt and ripping off a strip of fabric, wrapping it around my arm.

_Motorcycles freaking suck._

I dive back behind the trees to my motorcycle and grab my duffel bag from under it. I rummage through it, pulling out a black hoodie. I put it on, zipping it up and putting up the hood. Then, I begin to creep through the trees back to the van, my heart beating double-time. I reach the van just as Jake Puckerman and another hooded acomplise open the door to the van, revealing 5 teenagers much like myself, dirty, battered and weighed down by their broken spirits. I hear a scream, a smack, and then a cry. I know what I have to do, no matter the costs.

* * *

_Shanna's POV_

The door opens, a flood of golden light blinding me. I blink rapidly, trying to regain my vision. Reality sets back in and the smile on my face- the hope- fades. A hooded figure in black stands over us, his silhouette looming over us like a dark cloud. His devil red eyes scan us all, scrutinizing us. Then, his gaze falls on Kurt, looking peaceful in the dark. He pulls out his knife, eyeing the boy sinisterly. Marley lunges at him, knocking him to the floor. She squeals as the knife cuts into her arm. The monster stands to his full height, pulling Marley up by her hair. He slaps her, hard, against the face and throws her to the floor in disgust. Michael's on his feet, so is Finn. I protectively shuffle over to Kurt, wrapping my arms around him, cradling his unconscious body. I feel a tear roll down my cheek as the driver spits at them, hoists Marley over his shoulder and throws her inside. She cries loudly, sobbing as he holds her arm in pain. Then the doors slams, and we're left to rot in the dark once more.

I wish I could help, but I don't know what to do. I'm not me anymore.

* * *

_Marley's POV_

_My arm hurts like hell. I'm going to die. This is it, the end. Game over. _

I watch Michael's ears prick up and his face change expressions. He scuttles over to Finn in the corner, whispering something quietly in his ear. The brunette smirks, bending over Kurt and passing on the message. But he still doesn't wake up. His chest just rises and falls, and with every breath he slips further and further away. I feel a stab of sadness sark through me, and I slouch backwards. We know he's ill. Finn hasn't lost hope though, and that's what's keeping Kurt breathing. Nothing else.

Michael looks down at the floor guiltily for a moment before hurrying over to Shanna, who he whispers to. She sighs and rests her head in her hands, engrossed in her own thoughts. Then, Michael returns to me, ready to tell me what he's told everyone else. But the door opens again and a hooded figure in black stands over us, his silhouette looming over us like a dark cloud. I cower into Michael, who wraps his arm around me, sheilding me. He's tall and thin, with a gun in his trouser waistband. And he's shirtless under a black hoodie.

"Come on everyone, we don't have much time." The boy whispers. I look him up and down. He's not much older than me, with light brown hair and deep brown eyes that make you feel like your melting.

"Who are you?" I stammer, looking up at him with my teary eyes. He looks down at me, his gaze soft.

"I'm your knight in shining armour"


	5. Chapter 4

Marley's POV

The first thing I felt was the pain. My leg felt red hot, throbbing as if it was on fire. My cheeks stung. My head ached. Memories came flooding back, making me feel whoozy. I sit up, only to fall back down. I rub my hanf on my calf and feel a bandage neatly wrapped around the knife wound, the fabric rough on my skin. I glance around as my vision starts to clear. Michael lies next to me, hand outstretched towards me; I take his hand in mine and kiss it gently. I then begin to see where everyone else is. They all lie slightly further away, Finn cradling Kurt and Shanna is curled up beside a tree. And sitting on a log, alone by the fire, was Ryder. His gaze was transfixed on the dancing flames. I stand and traipse through the leaves littering the floor towards him and sit beside him on the log. He glances at me and miles before turning back to the fire.

"You should sleep" He says, not looking away from the fire.

"Can't." I reply flatly, watching puffs of smoke fade into the night sky. Ryder turns his head and our eyes lock, his fingers intertwining with mine. He smiles slightly and uses his free hand to pat his lap. I rest my head his thighs, my feet dangling off the seat. He starts softly running his fingers through my hair.

"I'm scared Ryder" I whimper, and I feel him look down at me. I sit up, not looking away from him as he brushes a strand of hair from my face. He's so close that I can smell his minty breath and his cologne.

"Don't be" He kisses me, varying the pressure. One hand rests on my back, the other on my shoulder. The kiss stops too soon when we hear people begin to stir, and I lie down on his lap once again and, before I know it, I'm asleep.

* * *

Michael's POV

I wake up to the feeling of the sun on my face. I stretch my hand towards Marley, but she's not there. Panic sets in as my eyes fly open and I sit up. A sigh of relief leaves my lips as I see her lying on a log, wrapped up in a jacket. Ryder's jacket. I clamber to my feet and rush towards her, fuelled by an adrenaline rush of jealousy and crouch beside her.

_But she's just a friend... unless _

No. That's impossible. A beautiful, heartbroken girl would never go for a nerd like me. People like me don't get what they want. We're best friends, who met unfortunately in horrific circumstances and stuck together 'cause we had no where else to go. _She'd never... would she?_ I shake my head. Suddenly, I feel eyes on me.

"Leave her alone Ryder" I growl through gritted teeth. I can almost see the smirk on his face.

My fists clench.

"Why? If it wasn't for me, she'd be dead in that stuffy van right now, like the five from Justice"

"Four" I correct, "One survived"

"Whatever, I'm just saying that she needs me more than she ever will need you."

Harder.

"She needs me, you don't know her like I do" I spit, glancing round with a fire in my eyes, building up inside me.

3.

Ryder starts to walk closer and closer to me, mocking me.

"I know she's scared, lonely. I know she saw someone close to her DIE right in front of her, and she needs comfort. Comfort she can find from me." He leans down to my ear level behind me, his voice a hiss, only meant to be heard by me.

2.

"Because I'm the good guy here, the hero, and you're just some sort of guy behind the scenes who gets left behind. She needs me, she doesn't need a scared little boy, not someone like you"

1.

I jab him in the groin with my elbow and get to my feet, pushing him to the ground and kicking him repeatedly in the stomach. He moans in pain before swiftly grabbing my leg and pulling me down with him, my head hitting the forest floor hard. He straddles me, throwing punches, hitting me in the jaw, cheek and eye. I flail my arms, trying to get up, defend my honour, but Ryder just keeps hurting me. I faintly hear shouting and commontion, but I can't hear because of the blood. It gushes from my nose, the side of my face, the scratches on my cheek- everywhere. I begin seeing double, trying to claw his face off but only grabbing air. The pains too much. I hear a shout and look up to the sky before it all fades to black.

* * *

_Blake's POV_

I can't keep up with this act much longer. I thought this would be easier, but I was wrong. Constantly filled with panic, restrained to show myself by the ropes I've tied myself to, running away from myself and my friends. Ryder Lynn is who they see, but it's only a mask. Only Marley's seen the real me, the fight was just a character. A story. An illusion. They don't know about me, my past or my motives, just that I'm a douche. And that's how I thought I'd like it.

But I was wrong. So wrong.


End file.
